11. Chapter Eleven
11
Sofia
Luca's car hadn't been driven since he'd been shot, and when we went down to the parking garage beneath his building, I was shocked that it started at all. It sputtered and stalled, but I was able to coax it to life after a few minutes. Luca sat in the passenger seat with a pensive look on his face.
For once, I wasn't bothered by the silence between us. I had more than enough on my mind as it was.
I'd gotten the job.
That's what the phone call had been about. A dream job at the City Councilor's Office in District Four. I'd be working as a researcher, gathering facts and figures on crime statistics, housing, employment, education, things like that. And, I'd be working with the councilwoman herself, who was a proponent of social justice. The job was everything I'd wanted.
Except that it was all the way across the city in Dorchester. The commute would be a killer—I'd have to move.
I'd have to leave Luca.
"Who was on the phone?" Luca asked.
I looked over at him. He was watching me with an intent expression, his eyes bright in the morning sunlight. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of him, at the knowledge that I'd could soon lose this.
"Aria," I said, keeping my eyes on the road. Luca could always tell when I was lying. "Boy trouble. Don't tell Dante."
Luca scoffed. "Obviously. Dante's not known for his finesse when it comes to Aria. But let me know if you need any help dealing with the asshole. I'll be happy to take care of it."
"Thanks," I said quickly, "but I think we'll be okay."
But would I be okay, leaving him?
Ironically, Beth's murder, the catalyst that had led to our cohabitation in the first place, couldn't be further from my mind. I felt incredibly guilty about that.
As I pulled out into traffic, I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. “Hey, um…about Beth. I can’t believe I haven’t asked until now, but has anything…I mean, have you found out who…”
Luca glanced at me briefly, then looked straight ahead. “Dante took care of it. Beth’s body is back with her family.”
I gripped the steering wheel tighter. “How are they doing? Have they said anything? Asked any questions? I should call her mother—”
“Don’t. I know you want to help, but we don’t need any more involvement. They think it was an accident. Let’s keep it that way.”
“But do you know who might have done it? I mean, Davey owed our family money. It had to be someone we knew—”
“I’m handling it, Sofia. Me and Dante have this under control. Drop it.” Luca’s lips thinned into a grim line, but then he sighed and leaned back against the headrest, shutting his eyes. “Shit. Sorry. I know she was your friend, but I really need you to stay out of this. This is family business, and I don’t want you involved any more than you already have been. As far as we know, Beth was the sole target. Not you. But until Dante and I get to the bottom of this, I need you to steer clear and stay away from your old place and your old friends. Okay?”
“Okay.” I didn’t want to get involved in family business; I really didn’t. I left that life for a reason, and although I knew I would never be truly free while my brother and Luca were so intricately involved in the life, I wasn’t about to start poking around. “But you’ll tell me when you find out what happened? Who it was?”
“I will. I promise.”
Honestly, that was one more reason that I should take the job in Dorchester. That kind of distance would put an insulating buffer between me and what had happened to Beth, but not what stopped me. It was Luca.
I was worried about him. His headaches and dizziness had been getting worse the past week, even though he was trying to hide it. Stupid, stoic man. Maybe I could convince him to go to the doctor, but somehow, I doubted it. Luca was a stubborn man, and he didn't like feeling weak. He especially hated being coddled, and if I tried, I had a feeling he would only push me away. And more than anything, I knew how much he dated doctors and hospitals. I didn't blame him, after what he'd been through.
So where did that leave me? This was a dream job, and if Luca found out I'd turned it down just to stay with him, he'd be furious. I was sure of it. But if I left, I knew his stubborn ass would be all alone again. And this time, I was seriously worried about what might happen if I was gone.
We split up once we arrived at the compound, Luca going in search of Julian and Dante for whatever it was they got up to around here, while I walked up the grand, sweeping staircase to where I knew I'd find Aria—in her bedroom.
Aria practically lived in her walk-in closet when she was at the compound. She could care less about the family ventures, legal or otherwise, as long as it provided a steady cushion in her bank account. As a successful fashion vlogger and brand influencer, Aria needed a steady income to support her habit.
That's what I liked about her. Aria was more than happy to play mafia princess and use the family name and resources to get ahead. She had no aspirations of joining the ranks of the family or becoming an integral part of the business. She just wanted to spend her days shopping and getting her nails done. Aria was probably the least complicated person I'd ever met in my life, and for that, I loved her.
"Hey, stranger." I rapped on the open doorframe to let her know I was there. Aria was trying on a new dress. She turned to give me a smile.
"Sofia! Oh, thank God. Get over here, I picked up a couple things for you and I want you to try them on. Just your style. Well, what used to be your style anyway. I can see we've gone bohemian hobo today."
I looked down at my ripped jeans and second-hand floral top. "I didn't come here to try on clothes, Ari."
She waved me off. "I know. But you're here now, so you might as well make yourself useful and try on this dress for me."
Aria waved the garment pointedly at me, and I admired how the fabric swished and draped. She was right. My wardrobe had taken a turn for the worse, but by budget. Not by choice. I had been a bit of a fashionista in college, dressing up for every occasion, even if it was only in a bar. Now, I wore yoga pants and sneakers and the same three blouses I had. But...when in Rome...
"Okay," I relented. "Give me the damn dress."
Aria laughed and tossed it to me. I retreated to the bathroom to change, taking a moment to look at myself in the mirror before I slipped it on. The dress fit perfectly, as I knew it would, accentuating my ample curves. Aria always knew how to pick clothes that would flatter my figure.
It was a simple sundress, a deep turquoise blue with tiny white flowers. The scoop neckline showed just a hint of cleavage, and the hemline fell at mid-thigh, feminine and just a little naughty. The fabric was breathable and soft, and as I smoothed my hands over my waist, I couldn't help but imagine Luca's hands instead, or the look on his face when he saw me in it. I still hadn't been able to get his words out of my head. Luca thought I was cute—no, sexy—but shockingly, he hadn’t been afraid to admit it.
"Hurry up in there!" Aria called. I opened the door and stepped out. She whistled. "Damn girl! You look hot!"
"I do, don't I?" I giggled, feeling better than I had all day. I twirled, making the skirt flare. Aria laughed and clapped.
"I knew it! That's definitely a keeper. And that color looks amazing on you. All right, get over here and try on these shoes, I think the wedge would lengthen your legs beautifully. Then, you can dish about whatever's got you tied up in knots."
"How'd you know?" I asked, wobbling as I stepped into the strappy wedge.
Aria pushed her thumb between my eyebrows. "You've got this little line right here, and that means you're stressed. You better tell me what's going on, because a wrinkle right there is not a great look."
I plopped down next to her on the ottoman and sighed. "I got a job offer at the City Councilor's Office."
"That's great!"
"It's in Dorchester."
"Um…yay? You don't look happy about this." Aria frowned. "Why aren't we happy about this?"
"It's clear across the city."
"So?"
Just say it. "And I don't want to leave Luca," I blurted.
She gave me a pointed look. "That man doesn't need a babysitter, Sof."
"It's not that."
"Then what is it?" When I didn't say anything, she took both my hands from where they'd been crushing my new dress to death and waited until I met her eyes. "Is there something going on I should know about? Something I suggested and you shot down, only three days ago?"
I didn't answer right away. Instead, I looked around the room. Aria's closet was a cavernous affair, a walk-in with rows of clothes, shoes, and purses on each side. A large vanity stood opposite the door, where Aria sat for hours upon hours every week, carefully curating her YouTube videos. Her bedroom was large and spacious, done in shades of pale pink and gold. It was a girly girl's paradise, but as I looked around, I knew it was as much a prison as it was a haven. Aria couldn't escape who she was, even if she wanted to.
I'd been trying to escape all my life, but now that it was here, I wasn't so sure.
"Sofia," Aria pressed.
"I think...I think I have feelings for him. For Luca." I'd never said it out loud before, and I immediately wanted to stuff the words back into my mouth.
“Yes! I knew it!” She pumped a fist in the air, but when she saw the look on my face, her expression fell. "Oh, sweetie."
"Don't." I shook my head. "I know what you're going to say. And you don't need to say it."
"I wasn't going to say anything," she said softly. "I'm just surprised. You were so against it earlier. But it makes sense, you know. How long has it been going on?"
"It's not going on, exactly. I mean, Luca and I are friends. We've always been friends, and then after he was shot, all that time in the hospital when we didn't know if he was going to live or if he was going to die...I guess that was when things started to change for me. And before you say it, this is not some messed up kind of ‘Florence Nightingale’ effect. The man is so stubborn he hardly won't let me do anything for him. The only reason he let me move in with him in the first place is this thing with Beth, but now that it's been a few days..."
"Things have gotten a little blurred," Aria finished.
"Blurred." I laughed. "That's the understatement of the year."
“Does he like you?”
Blushing, I bit back a giggle, remembering the bathroom incident. “The male body doesn’t lie when it comes to that. I’m fairly sure he’s turned on by me, but as far as like liking me…I don’t know.”
"Do you want to be with him?"
I chewed on my lip. "I-I don't know. I care about Luca of course, and there's no denying how hot he is, but to act on that...to give in and potentially ruin our friendship when I'm one of the last people he's let into his life...I feel like that could be a mistake. I just don't know what to do."
Aria put her hands on my shoulders. "Okay, listen to me. I think you're stressed. You've had a lot of pressure on you this year, and you and Luca have become closer than ever. You're just feeling the intensity of all that, and that's normal. I think you need to take some time for yourself and relax. Go out with your friends, get drunk, do something crazy and irresponsible for once. Clear your head. Maybe you'll feel different then."
I sighed. "I don't know."
"Just think about it, okay? Sometimes all we need is a little bit of perspective."
I smirked at her. "Look at you, all wise and everything. I thought you were just a pretty face."
"Oh, I am," she giggled. "Now, come on. Let's get you dressed and do something about your hair, and I guarantee when Luca sees you, we can upgrade that fairly certain to positive."
***
Aria, of course, was right.
The boys were out in the courtyard. Julian was shooting clay pigeons looking like he didn’t have a care in the world, but Dante and Luca were standing shoulder to shoulder, heads together and apparently deep in conversation. I could only see Luca’s side profile, but I could tell by the rigidity of his shoulders that he was upset about something.
Neither looked up as I approached, and I caught a snippet of their conversation.
“The girl’s family is raising holy hell.” Dante was saying. “Apparently her sister is connected, somewhere high up with the Feds. That’s why I haven’t been able to find diddly-squat on her. We need to shut this shit down before—”
“You’re not going to do anything,” Julian cut him off. “More violence isn’t going to solve this. We have to be smart about this.”
“Dom—”
Luca grabbed Dante by the arm. “Is a loose cannon. He’s moved onto the next shiny new plaything—let him. We can’t take the risk of the Feds zeroing in on our shit because we called attention to ourselves for something that’s done and dusted. Let it lie.”
“This is going to come back to bite us in the ass. Just watch.” Dante shook his head, pulling free of Luca’s grip.
The motion turned Luca halfway in my direction, and when he caught sight of me, he stopped in his tracks, his jaw going slack. Beside him, Dante rolled his eyes and Julian's scowl deepened.
"What the hell did you do?" Luca asked. I tried not to laugh at his bewildered expression. Already, a bright flush was creeping up his neck, and his pants looked decidedly tighter in the crotch than before. Not that I was looking, or anything.
"Aria attacked me and forced me into an impromptu makeover session. Blame her."
Luca shook his head as though to clear it, and I couldn't help but smile. Aria had given me a blow-out and let me raid her makeup drawer, and I had to admit, I felt more like myself than I had in months. I felt good. Powerful, even. And I had to admit, the look on Luca's face was making me feel even better.
Still, why hadn't he made a move? Was he really that self-conscious? Or did he just not see me that way? Maybe I should listen to Aria and take the job. Maybe we both needed to clear our heads.
Luca was quiet again on the ride home. When I asked him about it, he grumbled about the guys and Sal, things I didn't understand. The silence, this time, wasn’t quite as comfortable as before. I wanted to reach for his hand, but I was afraid of what he'd do.
When we pulled into the garage, Luca went inside without a word. I sighed, following behind him.
"What do you want for dinner?"
He didn't answer, just kept walking. I frowned.
"Luca?"
He walked into the kitchen and braced his hands on the counter, his head bowed. I could see the tension in his shoulders from across the room.
I followed him into the kitchen. "Luca, are you all right?"
He took a deep breath, then let it out. "Yeah."
I stepped up behind him, running my hands gently over his shoulders. I could feel the tension there, so tight. His back was rigid, his muscles rock hard. "You don't seem all right."
"Just tired." He grunted, his eyes drifting shut.
"Does this have anything to do with what you, Julian, and Dante were arguing about?"
"Yes."
"Want to talk about it?"
"No."
I smirked. "Of course you don't." I dug my thumbs into his shoulder blades, smiling when he groaned loudly. "How's that feel?"
"Good," he sighed. "Too good."
"Sorry," I said, going to pull away.
Luca reached back to cover my hand with his, pressing it harder into his shoulder. "No, don't stop."
"Okay," I whispered, biting my lip. I kept up the pressure, rubbing circles into his shoulders. He groaned when I moved to the other side, leaning his forehead against the cabinet.
He hissed. "Fuck, that feels good."
Suddenly, I had an idea. Probably the worst idea I'd ever had, but apparently I have no self-control, because I said it anyway. "Go into the bedroom and lie down."
His eyes flew open. "What?"
I'd already turned to walk into the bathroom. "Take your shirt off, too," was my parting shot over my shoulder.
Bad idea, Sofia. Such a bad, bad idea.
Rummaging through my toiletries bag until I found what I was looking for, I headed back into the kitchen, where Luca still stood, frozen. I held up the bottle of massage oil. "Let's go, mister!"
Luca stared at me for another beat like he'd suddenly been struck blind and deaf, but he eventually turned and slowly followed me into the bedroom. I heard the rustle of clothing and the creak of the bed, and I tried to keep from imagining Luca lying naked on the sheets. I'd see him soon enough. With pants, of course.
Unless Luca suddenly decided to spice things up.
Stop it, Sofia.
I walked into the bedroom, where Luca lay on his stomach, his hands tucked beneath his chin. His shirt was off, and his lean, muscular back was on full display, rising and falling evenly. I stopped in the doorway, my mouth dry.
"Well get over here," he grumbled. "Unless you've lost your nerve."
He delivered the words with the old, familiar smirk I remembered, but I could see from here he was trembling. My heart softened.
"Of course not."
I went to the bed and climbed up next to him, sitting sidesaddle so my hip pressed against his. I poured some oil into my hands, rubbed them together, and began to massage his shoulders, digging my thumbs into his neck. He groaned softly, his head turning to the side as he sighed. I rubbed circles into his skin, trying not to focus on how soft and warm he felt.
"That feels...fuck," he muttered.
"Good?"
"So good."
I worked my way down his back, watching the tension melt away with every stroke. The left side of his body was knotted and tense compared to the right. That was the funny thing about brain injuries I had learned in those days and weeks after Luca had woken up—the damage to the left side of his brain affected the right side of his body, and as a result, the musculature of his left side compensated for its weakness by becoming almost hyper-taut.
"Does it feel different?" I asked as I gently pressed into his lower back.
"What?"
"When I touch you on this side," I murmured, brushing my fingers along his right side.
"Tingles more."
I pulled back, hesitating. "Is that bad?"
Luca shrugged. "It is what it is. Don't go gentle on me babe, go ahead and give it to me. Be brutal."
I giggled, and Luca turned his face so I could see his answering grin. Then I climbed up on top of him, my thighs straddling his lower back, and wiped that grin right off his face.
Throwing my body weight behind it, I dug my palms into his back, working out the knots with the heel of my hand. Luca hissed, then groaned obscenely, a sound that pooled low in my belly and sent a flare of heat between my legs. I gasped and my thighs tightened around his waist. Luca tensed beneath me, and I prayed he wouldn't roll over. Or, maybe, I was praying he would.
"Fuck," he breathed. "Fuck, Sofia."
"What?" I squeaked.
"Keep going, just like that."
My hands ran up and down parallel to his spine as his back rose and fell powerfully beneath me, and I had to fight back the urge to grind against him. It wasn't easy, with his strong shoulders flexing beneath me, his back muscles bunching and moving as he shifted, making little noises of pleasure in his throat. The sound of them had me clenching deep inside, my underwear soaked.
"You okay?" Luca rasped.
"Yeah," I whispered. "I'm fine. Why?"
"You're shaking."
I glanced down at my hands, and he was right—they trembled. "Sorry."
"Don't apologize," he said curtly. "It's not your fault. You can stop."
Luca rolled over, and I slid off to the side, confused by his sudden change in demeanor. "What do you mean?"
"I'm not the easiest to look at. Or touch."
What. The. Hell. Luca actually thought I was repulsed by him? How could he not know how turned on I was? How could he not see what he did to me?
I sat up on my knees, staring down at him. He looked away from me, but I grabbed his chin, forcing him to look me in the eye.
"You think that's why I'm trembling? Because I'm scared to touch you?"
"Aren't you?" he asked softly.
No. I'm trembling because I want you.
"Follow me." Without waiting for him, I rolled off the bed and walked into the bathroom.
Luca stood in the doorway as I knelt next to the tub, adjusting the taps and turning on the jets.
"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice soft and uncertain.
"Drawing you a bath. Come here." I held out my hand.
He approached slowly. I'd never seen Luca this nervous, staring warily at the water like it might reach up and grab him. When he reached the side of the tub, he stopped, his arms crossed over his chest.
"Take off your pants and get in," I said gently before turning around. I'd dumped enough Epsom salts in there to cloud the water, and now the steam rose from the water, filling the small bathroom with a thick, heady scent. I heard the sound of his belt buckle coming undone and the whisper of his zipper, and then Luca stepped past me and lowered himself into the tub. He hissed at the heat.
"Too hot?" I asked.
"It's fine. It's...good." His eyes drifted closed as he sank up to his neck, a look of pure bliss on his face.
I grabbed the washcloth and squirted some soap onto it, then knelt next to the tub and began to scrub him, starting with his shoulders. Luca jumped, splashing water over the lip of the tub. "What are you doing?"
"Just relax," I told him.
"I am relaxed," he growled, but I continued to wash him, moving the soapy cloth in circles down his arms. The muscles of his arms jumped and bunched beneath my hands, and I tried to keep my face neutral.
"It's just me, Luca."
"I know. That’s the problem."
The admission was low and guttural, but I kept my face blank as I washed his arms. I went lower, running the cloth over his chest and down his stomach, watching the ridges there tighten in response to my touch. Luca's hands tightened around the edge of the tub.
When I tilted his head back to wash his hair, he shied away from me, turning his face away. "You don't have to do this."
"I know. I want to."
"Why?" Luca reached up to cover the left side of his face. "How can you even stand to look at me?"
"Luca." I grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at me. "Stop it. You're beautiful."
He scoffed. "Yeah, I'm a fuckin' runway model."
Keeping his chin turned towards me, I let my fingers slide over his scarred face, feather light. "Do you know what I see when I look at these? A survivor."
Luca closed his eyes. "Sofia, please."
"I'm serious," I whispered. "You're beautiful, Luca. A beautiful survivor."
His eyes opened again, and the vulnerability in them nearly broke me. "This isn't surviving, Sofia. This is barely living."
My hand slid down his neck, over his collarbone and pecs, until my palm rested flat over his heart. "As long as your heart is still beating, you're a survivor," I said softly. "You're a fighter, Luca."
Luca's breath hitched, and his heart thumped in response. I could tell he still didn't believe me, even if a small part of him wanted to. Needed to.
I realized, right then, that I was going nowhere. I was going to turn down the job. Not because I felt sorry for Luca, not because I thought he needed me. Not because I wanted to fix him.
I was going to stay because I loved him.
Water pooled around my knees, growing numb from sitting on them. I didn't feel it. All I felt was the warmth of Luca's skin under my palm and the steady, constant heart beating beneath it. I looked at his face, the scars on the left side of it, and I saw beauty. I saw strength. I saw a man who'd suffered, who'd survived, who was still fighting, despite all the odds. I saw the man I loved, and I knew that as long as Luca's heart was beating, so was mine.
I closed the distance between us, and I kissed him.